


Stay With Me

by fckloyalty



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 8x04, Angst, F/M, Fix-It-Not-So-Fix-It-Fic, Hopeful Ending, Inspired by Music, POV Jaime Lannister
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 20:26:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20180221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fckloyalty/pseuds/fckloyalty
Summary: Jaime Lannister is addicted to Brienne of Tarth. And he hates himself for that. Jaime's struggles with love, self-hatred and relationship that was never supposed to work.





	Stay With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, it's my first work ever published and I really hope you will like it! More in-depth, yet hopeful view on 8x04, inspired directly by Sam Smith's "Stay With Me". Enjoy!

Celebration after the battle of Winterfell didn’t last for a long time. The feast continued for three days and three nights and then everything started going back to every-day life. Everyone was aware that there was another battle ahead of them. Jon Snow, Daenerys Targaryen and Sansa Stark tried to reach an agreement every single day on what steps to take against King’s Landing’s army. They spent long hours discussing possible enemy’s moves and trying to come up with the most unpredictable plan for their soldiers. Each meeting brought more and more amount of tension between three of them as they knew the decisive day was coming closer.

These meetings gathered multiple people who were less or more involved in controlling the battle. One of them was Brienne of Tarth, who after fighting with the dead ones decided to stay with lady Sansa and protect her directly in Winterfell. Brienne’s presence was the only reason why he was always there. Jaime Lannister. He was aware of how little he meant to all these people, he has never actually said anything on these assemblies, but he was there for her. If someone has told him before that he will get addicted he would have predicted it would be alcohol or self-hatred, but not her. Not Brienne of Tarth. But there he was listening to her cold, professional voice proposing another combat action and watching her face while she was focusing on the map. Little did she know how flawless she looked in these moments.

She bewitched him that night after first of the feasts. She made him realize how much he craved her for all these years. But did she also want him as much as he wanted her? He couldn’t tell. When the morning after the night they made love for the first time came she said that it can’t happen again. When he asked why_,_ she answered only with one word - _duties_. But she didn’t look at him saying that. Last time she looked him in the eyes she was unlacing her shirt in front of him. He remembered that view so clearly – the fire was burning in her eyes (or maybe it was just a fireplace reflecting in them) – she was afraid, but not hesitant. That moment she wanted it as much as he did. But since that moment she has never looked at him again.

Eventually, other nights happened. He left as soon as he arrived. He tried to hide his feelings as soon as he noticed how emotionless she was towards him. And one day he decided that he had enough, but that was when he fell in love. It was stupid, some may say, as it probably happened in the worst moment possible. But the way she looked whenever she felt pleasure. How her neckline blushed, how she bit her lower lip, how her short, light hair covered her face and she didn’t even bother to fix them. That was when he decided he wants to be the one to please her.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Slowly day by day he was losing hope that she will ever love him back. But then again she did something that made him restore this foolish feeling. Night three brought him her soft smile, night seven sweet mark on the neck, night twelve kisses on the stump. But anytime he thought it was finally the day she will look at him again, she curled up from the bed quickly, asking him to leave.

Nurturing his masochist behaviors he marked every day since she looked at him last time. He took a piece of coal and draw another long line on the chamber's wall, long enough so it will be visible from every part of the room. So that he never forgets. Not that he would forget anyway.

That day he added a sixteenth line to his gallery of days that didn’t matter because she didn’t look at him. It was early evening, it didn’t even get dark outside, but he has heard that Jon Snow announced extraordinary gathering as the army was soon to set off to King’s Landing. And Brienne was more than sure to attend. Despite the fact that she was staying in Winterfell, they always valued her experience as the knight. And he always loved sneaking in during her uplifting speeches, but that day was not one of these days. There was no need for him to be present in the assembly which would have hurt him much more than others did – the assembly happening during the time they usually met. And there was no need for him to go to her chambers – knowing she wouldn’t be there anyway.

He brought himself enough wine to forget who he was that night. But there was never enough wine for him to forget about her. He didn’t even open the bottle at first, he was just looking at its greenish color, tapping on the glass, praising himself for what he thought will be the first step to recover from this awful, devouring feeling that love was, but he couldn’t know how soon he would realize how much of a fool he really was.

Fractions of seconds later he heard knocking to the doors. But he didn’t open them. He knew who was standing behind. Even if it was someone else, he would have thought about her. But the knocking – gentle, yet so firm – it must have been her. He knew her too well not to recognize it. Night sixteenth brought him hopeful knocking – he added to the list of hope and focused on the bottle again.

But knocking repeated – twice then three times. Then the doors opened. And then they closed.

“You didn’t come.” He heard her cold, deep voice.

“To the meeting? I didn’t know I was needed”

“To my chambers.” And that was when he froze.

This time it felt different. She was more fragile, more obedient than ever before. He watched her carefully enough to notice a soft smile that appeared on her face when he lowered himself into her. He was sensitive to her touch enough to feel a mark left by her teeth on his neck. He was foolish enough to believe in what he saw when she was pressing gentle kisses on his stump, caressing it with her fingers. He forgot about losing hope that moment, he didn’t even know the meaning of these words. Minute by minute he was only gaining it again. Until he almost believed…

She curled up from the bed just as she always did. This time she could do it without a word as she was the one leaving. He watched her slowly massaging her shoulders and reaching for her dressing gown. And that’s when he stopped her hand and all of the coal lines on the wall didn’t matter anymore.

Her eyes were burning. Burning like the fire he saw in them the first time. But this time there was no fire to reflect. It was her fire burning in them. The fire that she tried to hide and she did it so perfectly that he almost believed her. He looked into them ceaselessly, trying not to miss any flame, trying to get back what he missed during all these days when he didn’t see them.

“Don’t leave,” he whispered.

They did it again. But slower. Not to miss any change in each other’s eyes. They craved to learn that step by step, forgetting that they will be repeating it every single night from now on. He thought there was nothing more beautiful than her blushing neckline, her biting her lips or her hair covering her face. There was. And it was love in her eyes. Love that appeared there when flames extinguished. Love that stayed there when they were laying their bodies down next to each other. Love that disappeared when she laid one more kiss on his lips and put her head on his chest, falling slowly in the arms of dreams. Just seconds before she did that, she managed to join their fingers. And that was when he also felt her love.

Night twenty-five they met in her chambers again. She asked him to do that. She knew she didn’t need to, but that was the first time when she asked him to come. The nights when making love wasn’t the only thing they did quickly became his favorite. She was sitting between his legs. He was pressing kisses on her bare shoulder slowly going up to her neck and she was playing with his fingers, joining her hand with his, carefully studying the differences and similarities between them.

“Will you stay with me?” she asked, not looking at him again.

He didn’t like it so he didn’t answer. After a few seconds of silence, he felt that she is separating their hands. When she turned to him, he noticed her eyes were full of tears and she was biting her lip hard not to make any sound. Her body was shaking, craving cry more than anything else at that moment. When he wiped the drop of the blood coming from her lip with his thumb she finally let herself weep. She looked him in the eyes and sobbed and he let her do that. Since the night she looked at him again they did everything looking at each other.

“I know you don’t love me,” she confessed, licking salty tears that already reached her mouth. “But will you stay with me?”

When she asked him that question again she closed her eyes. She buried face in her hands and continued sobbing, almost like she was too ashamed to do it directly in front of him. And he didn’t like that. But when the tears appeared in his eyes as well he knew it must have been one thing he didn’t want her to look at. For all these days and nights he did all he could to hide his feelings. And he succeeded so badly that even when she started showing him her love, she already must have believed that there are no feelings that she will get in exchange. And she still wanted him. Even believing that he had no feelings to give.

They didn’t know how long they cried together. Finally, it was her hands which started wiping tears from his face. He closed his eyes, not letting her see them, but her touch was enough for both of them. She didn’t ask him to open them. Not this time. That was the night when she needed to cope with him not looking at her. She only directed him silently through the next moves. _Lay down_. She whispered. As so he did. She placed herself on his side._ Embrace me_. He did that, slowly feeling dreams temptation. She looked at him one more time before she closed her eyes as well. _I love you too_. And one last tear fell on her cheek.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

It has been two weeks already since Jon Snow’s army was sent off to King’s Landing. Daenerys Targaryen’s dragons joined him a few days later. The news were coming brought by birds constantly. Were they winning? Were they losing? Jaime was asking himself every single time he saw anything flying above his head. But he wasn’t brave enough to ask her. They have never talked about their duties. Cause their duties were the thing that was supposed to separate them. Night twenty-eight he almost let the question out of his mouth but she stopped him with a kiss right in time. She wouldn’t let them talk about their duties. He stopped being present on official gatherings as well. Not because he didn’t want to be there. But because she asked him not to do this.

Day twenty-nine they dedicated to each other. There were no duties that day. In the early morning, they took horses and spent long hours in the place he has never been to. But he knew she was there before and she saw how much she wanted them to be there together finally. She showed him the views from the hill, declaiming every name of the fragments of nature she could only remember. They were lying down on the cold grass, watching the sun rising, then getting covered by the clouds, just to show up again seconds later. Then they walked slowly with their horses, talking to each other about such trivial things that he didn’t even remember later. Finally, they rested on huge rocks, where they ate berries, which they picked on their way through the forest. He closely watched her eating fruits with a smile on her face, which warmed his heart. He did it. He was the one to please her. He was the one to make her happy and he was the one to make her forget about struggles and fears. And duties. It all seemed unreal. They were carefree and in love, but why all he could think about at that moment was for how much longer this was going to last? Even the next day this could be gone. He was glad she noticed the sad look in his eyes and instantly made him forget about his thoughts. Even freezing cold and hard rocks didn’t bother him.

They came back to the castle in the late afternoon. They left horses outside and came in. He tilted his head to the side, noticing a change in her. When she turned around he knew. In her eyes he saw flames, so much more courageous than when he saw them for the first time. She took his hand and led him downstairs with a cheeky smile on her face.

Hot baths of Winterfell were his favorite thing in the North. Except for Brienne. Of course. She took off her clothes first and then helped him take off his. Then holding his hand she sank her body into water, slowly starting with her foot and he followed her. They wanted to get used to boiling water at first, still breathing hard, trying to forget they were in freezing cold few moments earlier. But they couldn’t stay away from each other for too long. They joined their bodies and quickly the water surrounding them wasn’t even close to the temperature of their skin.

Night twenty-nine was an unforgettable one. The one when they studied their bodies again, trying to remember the smallest fragments of each other, cherishing every moment, feeling like there wasn’t much time left for them. They didn’t talk about it, but he wouldn’t be brave enough to ask her anyway. That moment he was there to please her only.

Day thirty came sooner than they would want it to. Jaime didn’t find Brienne by his side in the morning. He immediately started looking for her and he found her with lady Sansa. He quickly noticed letter in their hands and a big bird sitting on the fence behind. Were they winning? Were they losing? He was asking himself, hoping they will finally tell him.

“Looks like I won’t have the pleasure to meet your sister again,” Sansa said and left the other two alone in the yard.

Brienne didn’t look at him. And he didn’t look at her as well.

Night thirty was the night of denial. They made love without a word. Without looking at each other. Jaime couldn't understand how quickly they could become these people again. And he hated them for that. No. He hated himself. And he loved her. But he still needed to go. When she fell asleep he looked at her one last time and biting his lip to the blood he left. Was he really that foolish to ever think it will work out?

He already prepared his horse during the day. Did she know about it? He didn't know, she didn't say anything. But she has read that letter. That letter that came to Winterfell that morning. That letter which made Sansa spoke to him for the first time in a month. The letter which was confirming the death sentence on his sister. The letter which changed everything. The letter which ruined all his chances for happiness. A piece of a paper piercing harder than a sword.

How could he do this? He was in the middle of nowhere. There was that innocent creature that was sleeping in her chambers, that creature who made him addicted to love, love which was so close to self-hatred he knew so well. And there was his sister. Sister that he needed to protect even if she was the one sending assassins after him. And deep down he felt this day eventually will come. Tomorrow. In another thirty nights. In a few months. In thirty years. Things he did for love. Things he was chained to until the day he dies.

He sobbed miserably and buried his face in horse's warm hair. He let out a single loud cry, trying his best not to wake up anyone who was left in Winterfell. Who he was kidding? Not to wake her up. But he wasn't even surprised when he noticed she was already standing there. Only in her dressing gown. Shaking from the cold. As fragile as any time when she was the one coming to him. Was she crying? She wasn't. But she was looking at him piercingly, begging all the old gods and the new for him to look at her one more time. He has never thought it will be that hard.

He ran to her and took her in his arms. Sobbing filled the place between her neck and shoulder. He held her like he was trying to explain that it was not him to decide whether to stay or go. He was shattered inside. He was such a fool to believe they had a chance. He was such a fool to let himself love, knowing it has never ended well. He hated himself so much at that moment. But she didn't. She seemed to understand. She seemed to already come to the terms with it. She gently caressed his hair letting him cry. And when it sounded like he had no more tears left she pressed her lips to his ear.

"Lay with me one last time," she whispered. "So it won't hurt so bad."

They laid together in her chambers. The fireplace was always burning there, lighting up whole space around it. Did they talk? Not much. She was just smiling to him from time to time and he was impressed. How could she do that? But soon he started playing her game. He let her join their hands and explain to him how similar they were. Listening to her, he remembered how he used to sneak into their gatherings to listen to her voice. A cold, deep voice that slowly was making him fall in love with her. It was just days ago, but it felt like forever. He couldn’t believe how everything changed.

He took a great amount of time to look into her eyes. He knew he won’t forget them. But he wanted to make sure. He wanted to make sure that no matter what happened, no matter how far he will be from her or from life, her eyes will always be the first and the last thing he saw. He almost didn’t remember the days when she refused to look at him. Coal lines of the wall of his chambers didn’t exist anymore.

But this time her eyes looked different. There weren't any flames in them. There wasn't love even. But at that moment he didn't need her eyes to assure of how much he loved him. In her eyes he saw acceptance. Acceptance of what was happening, acceptance of his choice. Acceptance of the fact that it was never supposed to work. Acceptance of him despite everything. But wasn't she always like that? Wasn't she always ready to accept him even if he made her believe he had no feelings for her?

When she turned around to the side of the bed he knew it was almost like she was saying _you can go now_. But he didn't want to go. And he didn’t. At least till the first rays of sunshine.

He embraced her from the behind, pulling her closer to him. He placed his chin on her shoulder and joined their faces together. They were both looking at dying fire in the fireplace now, just like they were looking at the days they spent together lapsing. The flames that kept them going for all these nights were gone. They fall asleep together one last time.

When he woke up the sun was shyly rising on the sky. He looked at her, cuddled up in his arms and smiled seeing her calm face. She was right. It didn’t hurt so bad now. It did hurt, but for the first time, he didn’t hate himself for that. He carefully tried to get up from the bed not to wake her up, but she still did. He pressed one last kiss on her forehead, caressed her face with his thumb, making her smile and left.

He left to the duties. The duties they have always known will separate them. But how foolish they both were to think that these duties will make them have one night only. He stopped the horse, took a deep breath and looked back one last time, hoping this time they were also wrong.


End file.
